


You Became My Habit

by teenuviel1227



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Jaehyungparkian, M/M, unabashed fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 19:16:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12282765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenuviel1227/pseuds/teenuviel1227
Summary: The one where Jae gets the flu and Brian takes care of him. Shameless fluff--but of course, because it’s Jaehyungparkian, lots of corny jokes.





	You Became My Habit

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless fluff requested by someone on my curious cat. Wherever you are, anon, I hope you enjoy this. This one’s for you.
> 
> Also, to clarify--you can send prompts and things (mostly for one-shots) to my CC; I can’t always promise they’ll materialize to a full fic but I’ll see what I can do. :D
> 
> Twitter - @teenuviel1227

Brian wakes up to the sound of Jae coughing and then tossing and turning beside him in bed, taking the duvet with him, the sheets making a rustling noise. Brian cracks an eye open. He’s the kind of person who can pretty much literally sleep through anything: thunderstorms, earthquakes, an office fire drill (Wonpil had made jokes about how if anything ever happened to them on a camping trip or office outing, Brian would definitely be the first one to die, simply because he was asleep)--that is, anything except when it has to do with one Park Jaehyung. _His_ Park Jaehyung.

Jae mumbles in his sleep, curling around his pillow.

“Baby,” Brian whispers, voice still low and gravelly from sleep. “Are you having a bad dream?”

Jae shifts again, pulling the comforter closer around him still. _He’s shivering._ Brian frowns, reaching for his phone to check the thermometer app on his phone. It’s warm enough, the heating is working.

He presses the back of his hand gently to Jae’s forehead--his skin is fevered, trembling. _He probably played ball even if it was raining. I’m going to kill Bernard._ Reluctantly, Brian gets out of bed, fumbles around in one of their dresser drawers for a face towel before stumbling out of their bedroom and into the kitchen, careful not to make a lot of noise. He turns the light on and starts to boil water in the electric kettle. He takes a sponge from the top cupboard, sets it on the kitchen table.

While waiting for the water to heat up, Brian takes a peek into Jae’s backpack, the one he takes with him to basketball practice. And there it is, under Jae’s extra jersey, untouched: the ziploc Brian always packs for him--a small fruitpack (sliced apples today), a bottle of yogurt, and a tab of Berocca. A small, neon post-it tagged to the inside reads: _Show them the real Lebron Jae-mes!_ Brian sighs. Jae has a habit of forgetting to eat his post-workout snack whenever the game gets too intense. His metabolism has a tendency to overwork, making him prone to getting sick. Brian frowns, cursing the rainy weather. He makes a mental note to scold Jae a bit about that later--Jae had done the same to him _twice_ the week before: first, for forgetting to take the vitamins that Jae had left for him one of the mornings he had to head out early for a field research assignment, and second, for falling asleep while he was still rain-drenched with the heat turned on low.

_What if you get pneumonia?_

It’s just their thing--their shared habit, their own take on folie a deux. Brian smiles a little at the thought: when it all began, Jae had been the quirky guy from Marketing who kept on pitching these wild ideas to Brian’s division (Research & Funding) which made Brian laugh at meetings. They were the perfect endings to his otherwise stressful weeks. Fridays eventually became his favorite day until he found himself dressing up more, living for those small moments when the tall drink of water with the beautiful hair and bright smile looked at him for just a fraction of a moment longer than everyone else. Everything had been pretty much smooth sailing from that first time that Brian had slipped Jae a post-it that said _Have coffee with me?_ : they quickly became inseparable, had moved in together, have been in love ever since. Although they never really talk about it, they both know it’s their shared secret fear that what they have--what they’ve had for almost four years now--is too good to be true, that one day one of them will get sick or into an accident and all of it will come crashing down. Neither of them are going to let that happen.

 

The electric kettle clicks, letting up a stream of steam as the red button turns off. Brian takes the kettle into the bathroom, pours its contents into a basin. He turns on the tap, filling the basin up just enough so that the water is warm instead of scalding. He checks the temperature with one hand before carefully laying a fresh towel over the nearby chair. He takes Jae’s bathrobe, slippers, and a fresh pair of underwear, pajamas, lays them out nearby. Lastly, he puts the small footstool by the towel-covered chair.

With that, Brian walks back into the bedroom, sitting on the bed beside Jae’s curled, sleeping form. He pauses for a moment, his heart lurching in his chest at the sight of Jae asleep, hair a mess from his restless thrashing, lashes casting shadows on his cheeks, lips slightly parted, sighing into his pillow. _He’s adorable._ Carefully, Brian pries the pillow away from Jae’s grasp.

Jae groans, coughs.

“Baby,” Brian says again, stroking Jae’s hair. “Baby, you have to get up for a while. You’ve got the flu.”

Jae frowns, opens his eyes slightly. He sniffles. When he speaks, his voice is cracked, more hoarse than usual. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not, Jae-by love,” Brian says, grinning a little at the crease that forms between Jae’s eyebrows. “You’ve got a fever and you’ve been coughing. Come on, let me give you a sponge bath and medicine so you can sleep well and feel better in the morning.”

Jae shakes his head, grabbing at the pillow Brian’s just taken away. “You’re just going to scold me.”

Brian grins. “Well, yes, but only because I love you, you idiot. And you already know you shouldn’t have played if it was raining. You forgot your snack too. Did you at least see my note? I thought long and hard about that one.”

The faintest hint of a smile. Jae’s eyes flutter open. “You’ll be proud to know your Lebron Jae-mes won the game, even at the cost of his health.”

Brian kisses the space between Jae’s brows. “Will he please let me nurse him back to said health now?”

“Fine.” Jae sighs, slowly makes to sit up. “Only because I love you.”

“Good.” Brian loops an arm around his waist, propping him upright. Jae is still trembling a bit. “You still feeling chilly?”

Jae nods. “And my throat hurts. My muscles feel all achey.”

Brian plants a kiss on his temple. “Just a couple of minutes and we’ll have you back in bed.”

They walk into the bathroom, Brian helps Jae out of his clothes and seats him on the towel-covered chair. Brian hands Jae the face towel. “Dry up quickly as I go, alright? I don’t want to make things worse.”

Jae nods, eyes still bleary with sleep, his glasses still sitting askew on the nightstand.

Brian sits on the footstool, pulls the basin closer, dips the sponge into the warm water and squeezes the excess before pressing it softly onto Jae’s fevered skin. Jae sighs, the effect instantly soothing him. He dries himself quickly, feeling the heat dissipate, feeling himself calming down. He watches Brian as he carefully dabs the sponge onto Jae’s face, his neck, making his way down under his arms, his torso, the crease of his pelvis, the backs of his legs. For a moment, he’s overwhelmed with so much love for Brian he thinks it might worsen his fever. _What did I do to get so lucky? What nation did I save in a past life?_

After Jae is all dry, Brian takes a fresh pair of boxers, helps Jae put them on before helping him slip into a fresh pair of pajamas. Brian tops it off with a big, red sweater, mismatched socks, pulling Jae’s bathrobe over the entire ensemble for added comfort. He gives Jae his fuzzy chicken slippers, slips his socked feet into them. As a final touch, he towels off Jae’s slightly damp hair until it’s dry enough for him not to get even sicker if he sleeps on it.

“Better?”

Jae smiles. “So much better.”

Brian looks at him, watches him do that blinky thing he tended to do whenever he isn’t wearing his glasses. _Cute._ “I want to kiss you so bad.”

“No, baby,” Jae says softly. “You’ll get sick too.”

“Now _that_ would be worth sacrificing my health for.” Brian kisses Jae’s hand. “Head back to bed. I’ll bring you the meds.”

Jae nods, ambling back into the bedroom. Brian likes the shuffling sound of his fluffy slipper-clad feet.

Jae struggles to finish the Berocca, to swallow the flu medicine but is soon back in bed. Brian pulls the duvet up to Jae’s chin before taking coolpad strip and setting the soft gel adhesive onto Jae’s forehead to bring his fever down.

Jae pouts.

“What is it?” Brian asks, eyes wide with worry.

“Get back in here with me.”

Brian smiles, planting a soft, firm kiss onto Jae’s cheek. “Gladly.”


End file.
